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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



NORTHLAND LYRICS 



NORTHLAND LYRICS 

BY WILLIAM CARMAN ROBERTS 

THEODORE ROBERTS & ELIZABETH ROBERTS 

MACDONALD SELECTED AND ARRANGED WITH 

A PROLOGUE BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 

AND AN EPILOGUE BY BLISS CARMAN 







BOSTON 

SMALL MAYNARD & COMPANY 

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SECOND COPY, 






The E'verett Press, Boston y U.S.A. 



To 

Emma Wetmore Roberts 



CONTENTS 



XI A Foreword to Northland Lyrics 

Charles G. D. Roberts 



I 


Beyond the Golden Gates of Song 


E. 


R. MacD. 


I 


A Dedication 




W. C. R. 


3 


The Poet 




T. R. 


4 


Kinsfolk 


E. 


R. MacD. 


5 


The Night's Comfort 




T. R. 


6 


A Song of Climbing 


E. 


R. MacD. 


8 


In an Old Garden 




W. C. R. 


9 


The Journey 




T. R. 


lO 


Another Company 




T. R. 


II 


The Quiet Port 


E. 


R. MacD. 


12 


To Goodridge Bliss Roberts 


E. 


R. MacD. 


13 


The Conqueror 


E. 


R. MacD. 


H 


The Wine 




T. R. 


15 


The Window of Dream 




W. C. R. 


17 


A Song of Her Singing 




W. C. R. 


18 


Andante 




W. C. R. 


19 


The Chamber of the Dream 




T. R. 


22 


The Watcher 




T. R 


23 


Love's Inclusions 


E. 


R. MacD, 


24 


The Tower 


E. 


R. MacD, 


25 


A Prayer in a Garden 




T. R, 


26 


To Lilith 




W. C. R, 


26 


At the Last 




W. C. R, 


28 


«* WinterWarms His FreezingHand ' * 




T. R 


29 


A Whispered Word 


E. 


R. MacD 


29 


Sunset 


E. 


R. MacD, 



VII 





Contents 




29 


The Voices 


E. R. MacD. 


30 


Ex Umbris 


E. R. MacD. 


32 


In the Night-Season 


E. R. MacD. 


32 


The Last Furrow 


T. R. 


33 


«' On the Hills a God Lies Dead " 


T. R. 


35 


To W. C. R. 


T. R. 


36 


Socobie's Passing 


T. R. 


37 


Estranged 


W. C. R. 


38 


Autumn Dream 


W. C. R. 


39 


Haunted 


W. C. R. 


40 


The Wind in the Garden 


W. C. R. 


40 


An Autumn Night 


E. R. MacD. 


41 


The Wind-Cry 


E. R. MacD. 


42 


Beyond the Years 


W. C. R. 


43 


The Wanderer 


W. C. R. 


43 


A Secret Song 


E. R. MacD. 


44 


Thanksgiving 


E. R. MacD. 


45 


The Fading Year 


E. R. MacD. 


46 


Heimweh 


E. R. MacD. 


47 


Surprise 


E. R. MacD. 


47 


Greeting 


E. R. MacD. 


48 


Spirit of Spring 


E. R. MacD. 


49 


March- Waking 


E. R. MacD. 


49 


Beyond the Hills 


E. R. MacD. 


50 


From the Earth 


E. R. MacD. 


51 


The Shooting of the Moose 


T. R. 


52 


Olaf's Bowman 


T. R. 


53 


The Shadowy Tide 


W. C. R. 


54 


To an Old Ship's Figure-Head 

VIII 


T. R. 





Contents 






55 Inscrutable 








W. C. R. 


56 Harold 








T. R. 


57 Grey Garry 








T. R. 


58 Smoke- Wreaths 








W. C. R. 


60 The Deeps 








W. C. R. 


61 Before the Gate 








W. C. R. 


62 The Loup-Garou 








W. C. R. 


63 Kathaleena 






E. 


R. MacD. 


64 Rosemarie 






E. 


R. MacD. 


6s His Whim 




■' 




W. C. R. 


66 After 








W. C R. 


6^ To the Lord of the Years 






W. C. R. 


68 Toasts 








T. R. 


70 Before the Duel 








T. R. 


71 The Novice 








W. C. R. 


72 At the Heart's Cry 






W. C. R. 


74 Alien 








W. C. R. 


75 At Twilight 








W. C. R. 


y6 Slumber-Song 






E. 


, R. MacD. 


77 Berceuse 






E. 


R. MacD. 


78 The Garden 






E. 


, R. MacD. 


79 The Men of My 


Heart's 


Desire 




T. R. 


80 A Lament to the Memory 


of Archibald 




Lampman 








T. R. 


81 Dargai Ridge 








T. R. 


83 The Bugle-Call 






E. 
Bi 


. R. MacD. 


8; At the End of a ] 


Book 




.iss Carman 



IX 



A FOREWORD TO 
NORTHLAND LYRICS 

To E. R. MacD., W, C. R., T. R, 

Sister and brothers, not by blood alone 
Kinship inalienably dear we own, 
Nor hearts close-knit in common joys and tears 
And memories of sweet, familiar years 

That pledge the deep endurance of our love ; 

But also by the fellowship of song, — 
One art, one aim, one impulse, — we belong 
Each to the others ! Therefore let this word, 
Though poor, amid your Northland notes be heard 
For craft and kin and the loyal warmth thereof. 
Charles G. D. Roberts. 



VII 



NORTHLAND LYRICS 



BEYOND THE GOLDEN GATES 
OF SONG 

Beyond the golden gates of Song 

Who treads with reverent feet shall find 

The dreams and visions cherished long, 
The loftier longings unresigned ; 

The sacred memories that wake 
Our lives to noble yearnings still, 

The quiet love no years can break 
Nor any earthly hour fulfil; 

And many a dear and distant hour 
When gladness flooded land and sea. 

And many a word whose tender power 
Yet stirs our souls to victory ; 

And so to win our lives' release 

From out the world's tumultuous throng, 
We pass, with lips that sue for peace. 

Beyond the golden gates of Song. 

A DEDICATION 

These foolish rhymes of a foolish rhymer — 
One who has laughed and cried, 
I 



Northland Lyrics 

And dreamed at times of a mood sublimer — 
I send, this Autumn-tide. 

Not quite a thinker nor quite a poet, 

Though touched with the whims of each; 

With much to learn and fain to know it, 
But never a thing to teach, 

Except some rune of the gold leaves lying 

In the arms of the whispering frost. 
While under the stars the geese are flying 

And the frozen winds are tossed; 

Or the far, sweet word of the Spring-winds calling 

Our brothers out of the sod. 
With the gold-bright drops of the Spring rain falling, 

And joy in the heart of God. 

Poor scraps of dream from a heart world-weary. 

The rhymes you'll find within; 
But take at their hands the message, dearie, 

Of love from your kith and kin ; 

And say to yourself when you see them after. 
There is one who is foolish and fond. 

Whose heart is moulded of tears and laughter 
And dust, and a dream beyond. 



Northland Lyrics 

THE POET 

God, give me breath for one brave fight — 
For one great deed that the world will hear; 
If not, then God give me night. 

Night, with a candle to light the gloom, 
And the comfort shadows and twilight cheer, 
Crowding like friends in the room. 

God, give me valor, and courage, and breath 
For one great fight that the stars will see; 
If not, then God give me death. 

Death, with one candle to light the gloom 
From the church to the door of Eternity — 
Where, Lord, Thou wilt portion my doom. 

Better the death, ere the beard be grown. 
Than the idle waiting with sheathed sword — 
Uncheered, uncrowned, unknown. 

God, give me breath for one fight more — 
For one great fight in Thy name, O Lord; 
If not, then close me the door. 

Thus sang the Dreamer, with hands along 
The clanging strings — then, loosing his lyre. 
He flushed with the pride of his song ; 
3 



Northland Lyrics 

For he was a poet, and lived in the gleam 
Of the wonderful deeds that he touched to fire ;< 
How brave he was in his dream ! 



KINSFOLK 

Oh, fame may heap its measure. 
And hope its blossoms strew, 

And proud ambition call us. 

And honour urge us through — 

But kinsfolk, kinsfolk. 
My heart is all for you. 

When stately halls are ringing 
With mirth and light and song, 

Among the mazy dances 
The forms familiar throng. 

And speak above the viols 
The voices loved so long. 

When wandering far I visit 

Grey tower and haunted stream. 

Beyond the storied casements 

Those earliest hearth-fires gleam, 

And dear Canadian forests 
Grow dark around my dream. 



Northland Lyrics 

No strange and lovely countries 
Men venture far to view, 

No power and gifts and glory 
Are worth one heart-beat true ; 

Kinsfolk, kinsfolk. 

My heart is all for you ! 

THE NIGHT'S COMFORT 

I. 
I think the power of dream 
Is the power the spirit knows 
Over the crushing of fate, 
Over the grinding snows; 
The strength of the Galahad-heart, 
Stronger than barbed spears — 
The soaring of Chatterton 
Beyond the beggarly years. 

II. 
I think the power of dream 
Is subtle and fine like song — 
Like essence of harvest fields 
When harvest days are long; 
Gold and strong and rare. 
Healing the dreamer's brain — 
Filling his shadowed heart 
With softened laughter again. 

5 



Northland Lyrics 

III. 
I think the realm of dream 
Is true as the realm of day ; 
The houses our souls have built 
Border the dreamland way ; 
The love that we may not reach, 
The heart that is bitter cold, 
Soften, when night comes down 
With white stars manifold. 

IV. 

When the sunset fires are out 
And the ashes blown abroad, 
I throw aside day's rags 
And follow my dreamland god. 
He leads me into a place 
Where dreams are woven me; 
Valour and love and joy 
Like a wonderful tapestry. 

A SONG OF CLIMBING 

Dim questionings of Fate and Time 

Beset our souls on every side ; 
Clouds thicken round the path we climb, 
Yet strive we to the height sublime. 
Or perish if the worst betide. 
6 



Northland Lyrics 

What worse could happen than to lie 

Here in the valley leisurely, 
Xo watch the clouds go drifting by, 
And feel our powers grow faint and die 

To one tame, weak monotony ? 

To see our mountain's shining gold 
Gleam far above us height on height, 

And know the comrades loved of old 

Yearn from it vainly to behold 

Our upward strife, our deeds of might ? 

Nay, — face the terrors of the way. 

The rock-pierced torrent's angry roar, 
Grim walls that blind the eyes of day. 
Sharp, swift descents for feet that stray. 
And awesome birds that swoop and soar. 

Ah, better steadfast-eyed to scale 
The awful hillside hand in hand. 

For never yet without avail 

Did one true striving soul assail 

The barriers of the Mountain-land. 

Rouse we our spirits to the race. 

Friends ! Brothers ! From the walls above 
Leans many an unforgotten face 
7 



Northland Lyrics 

Still wearing through its new-born grace 
The old sweet look of human love. 



On ! On ! A hand for those who fall, 

For those who droop a song of cheer, 
Ears quick to catch the Leader's call, 
Stout hearts the gloom shall not appal, 
For lo ! the towers of Home are near ! 

There watching by the open door 

Shine Cuthbert's heavenly eyes of blue. 
There Muriel waits to meet once more 
The earth-born loves she hungered for, 
To clasp our hands and lead us through. 

There shall our lost ones wait, and there 

The height, the dream of our desire. 
Supreme fulfilment, answered prayer 
From lip to lip the watchword bear, 

The cry of Home ! Through flood and fire ! 

IN AN OLD GARDEN 

Sir Gold-Plush Beetle, in your crimson rose 

With you how goes 
This life of perfume breeze and pollen gold 

Above the garden mold ? 
8 



Northland Lyrics 

Does any thread of longing in your heart 

At criss-cross start, 
When some strange, wandering, bourneless thing 
goes by 

Beyond, against the sky ? — 

A wide-winged moth, or twilight-weaving bat — 

But what of that ? — 
Perhaps it set some wild, quick chdrd athrill 

Only the stars can still. 



THE JOURNEY 

When will I have to go ? 

Morning, or noon, or night ? 
Will the lilies be white or the snow 

When I buckle the girths all tight ? 

When will I have to leave 

This roomy old house and gay ? 

Will my roistering fellows grieve 
When they hear me gallop away ? 

Gallop away in the night 

From the light of the mirthful room 
With their faces still in my sight 

As I set my face to the gloom. 
9 



Northland Lyrics 

How long will the riding be 

Through the sunlight and fog and blur ? 
Friends, whisper a prayer for me 

When I buckle on sword and spur. 

For the road will be rough to the ford 
And the spirits will shout in the gloom 

When I gallop and beat with my sword 
At the narrow door of my tomb. 

ANOTHER COMPANY 

Do you not know, my friends, that sometimes here 

In this dim room with books along the wall 

I entertain another company — 

Where no wine gleams, no circled ashes fall ? 

The merry jests we know — the narratives 
Of brave adventure, which we tell to cheer, 
When uttered by these other guests of mine 
Ring, through their wide smiles, like a falling tear. 

Last night they all came in. Ambition, Doubt, 
Care with his heavy eyes and broken dream. 
Life with his cynic smile and dainty hands. 
And Memory, too, with her dear eyes agleam. 

Ambition, golden-haired, was all agog ; 
Doubt sat there moping at the window-pane, 

lO 



Northland Lyrics 

And Memory leaned against my dusty books 
And counted her bright treasures o'er again. 

I loved Ambition, for he promised me 

Great things — green wreaths — a name to belt the 

world ; 
I glanced at Life who sat beside the hearth 
And saw his cynic lips with laughter curled. 

But as the night advanced Ambition left, 

And Doubt and Life and Care, those brothers three. 

So I sat on, until the dawn came in 

Beneath the tears of wondrous Memory. 

Do you not know, my comrades, true of heart. 
That I pledge other eyes at other times ? 
That heavy-shouldered Doubt has his own chair 
And brave Ambition fires my little rhymes ? 

THE QUIET PORT 

There lies a quiet port across the sea 

Where the proud sail is furled, 
Where the bright banner flares and flaunts no more 

That once waved round the world. 

There the brave ships that steered for other shores. 
That fought the bitter blast 
II 



Northland Lyrics 

And dared the unknown straits, the frost-hung bays, 
Find harbourage at last. 

And those white barques that sought the isles of 
dream, 

The lands of love's report, — 
They too, though steering gladly otherwhere. 

Have found the quiet port. 

There the dark night comes down around them, 
there 

The weary captains rest, 
The homesick voyager bows down his head. 

The sage forgets his quest. 

But yet, ah even while we fall on sleep, 

We are content to wait ; 
Comrades, the land of our desire is near. 

This port is but its gate. 



TO GOODRIDGE BLISS ROBERTS 

All night the crickets sing among the flowers 
That watch beside you, sleeping on the hill, 

And low winds whisper through the lonely hours 
That though we sleep our love is with you still. 



12 



Northland Lyrics 

Some respite slumber brings us from our pain, 
For bygone days and hours of lost delight 

Come back, and you are with us, dear, again — 
Though by your grave the low winds singto-night. 

THE CONQUEROR 

Where are the eyes we loved, 

Tender and full of light ? 
Where are the hands we held 

Stumbling on through the night ? 
Gone — they are gone as a lamp 

Dies, blown out by a breath ! 
What have you done with our dear ones, 
Death ? 

W^here, from our eager eyes 

Withheld for a bitter space. 
Do they wait till our hasting feet 

Have brought us face to face ? 
Let us on to the Land 

That shines at the end of the quest. 
Where they who passed from our side 
Rest. 

Death, who took them away. 

Now they are yours no more ; 
He who went through the vale 
13 



Northland Lyrics 

And drank of the cup before 
Is Master even of thee, 

Yea, thou shalt fall at His word. 
For He is over us all 
Lord. 

On in the storm we strive. 

And thou dost lurk in the strife. 

Ever subtle and strong 
In the very midst of life : 

A touch and the face we love 
Loses the mystic spark ; 

We are left in the lonely night 
Dark. 

Yet we strive in the way. 

For out of the gloom a voice 

Comes to us, clarion-sweet. 
Bidding our souls rejoice. 

" I am the Resurrection," — 

Hear what the White Christ saith ; 

He is thy Lord and Master, 
Death ! 

THE WINE 

He breaks the seal, he pours the wine; 
We find the flavor somewhat hard, 
But the color is divine. 
14 



Northland Lyrics 

And we must drink it to the lees : 
See yonder coward lift the cup 
And drain it on his knees. 

If we must down it, hard and sweet, 
Bitter and mellow, we will up 
And drink it on our feet; 

Drink it like men of giant race — 
Pledge to our host, who stands not far 
With smiles across his face. 

He knows the flavor and bouquet. 
He forces it on every guest. 
Grinning the same old way. 

He keeps the flagon on the shelf 
And gives us each a mighty glass, 
But will not drink himself. 

He will not drink, but we must drink; 
So let us toss the stuff and bow — 
Only the cowards shrink. 

THE WINDOW OF DREAM 

On the edge of the deep grey sea of sleep 

Between the veils of the rain 
A casement gleams with the light of dreams, 
15 



Northland Lyrics 

Glimmers, and fades again 
While my heart goes keening out to it 

Through the volleying gusts — in vain. 

The window is set (O heart, forget) 

In walls of looming stone. 
And she is there, of the shadowy hair. 

Waiting so long alone. 
Whose eyes my soul would perish for — 

love, desired, unknown. 

Now and again through the streaming pane 

1 see her longing face — 

O love, I come, and my lips are dumb 

And wan with many a trace 
Of hungerings unsatisfied 

For your eternal grace. 

The long waves lift and the great winds drift 
My heart to the sands of night. 

Where the end of all is the looming wall 
And never a door in sight. 

While over the breaking sea there lies 
The casement's lonely light. 



i6 



Northland Lyrics 

A SONG OF HER SINGING 

The wind at the casement enters, like a child's soul 

into the dusk, 
With the cool, fresh scent of the garden, a fragrance 

of roses and musk. 

Sing me a song, my love, and plead with the ivory- 
keys 

Till the soul of the organ wakes, astir with such vi- 
sions as these. 

While the golden day fades slowly among the garden 
trees 

And I hear the robins coining their hearts upon the 
breeze. 

Sing me a song, my love, of joys more sharp than 

pain. 
The sweet, wild heart of dream athrill in the Autumn 

rain. 
The pleasure that crowns us now, the joy that will 

find us again. 

O love, with the beating and rapture of the spirit of 

life in your eyes, 
Sing low of the passionate yearning, the heart's first 

faint surmise; 

17 



Northland Lyrics 

Of the fairy quest, and the capture; the silence, tl 

rapt replies; 
Sing softlier, love, sing lower, till the hush on n 

spirit lies. 

ANDANTE 

Your fingers sweep the keys, and then 

By river reach and iris fen 

The long dead days come back again. 

Smile on me once again, and so 
Waft me on music soft and low 
Down the far hills of long ago. 

Where lonely sunsets blow and fade 
For one whose haunted heart has strayed 
At evening to the upland glade 

Where he can hear the wild geese cry 

Across the solitary sky. 

And the cold sweeping winds go by 

With broken words that laugh and weep 
Like some one troubled in his sleep 
By visions of the calling deep. 

Strange forest-girdled lakes, whose moods 
Lie hidden in far solitudes 
Where no irreverent foot intrudes; 
i8 



Northland Lyrics 

Black, tossing rapids, through whose roar 
A vague, great voice forevermore 
Goes echoing from shore to shore; 

All phases of that vi^ilderness 

Whose close communion used to bless 

My boyhood in its loneliness; 

All these across my spirit's ken 

Sweep by on waves of sound, and then — 

A sharp, sweet chord — they fade again. 

The wandering ghosts have found their tomb; 
And here, within this shadowed room. 
Your gold hair glimmers through the gloom. 



THE CHAMBER OF THE DREAM 

I did not build a lordly house 

Here in my heart, to stand through time. 

I only filled a little room 

With joyous scraps of rhyme. 

And pictures that no brush could trace, 
And music that no harp could make. 
I hung the walls about with joy 
And gold for my dream's sake. 
19 



Northland Lyrics 

I pierced the walls with openings — 
One for each season — windows four. 
I wished to hold it through all time 
So did not cut a door. 

A workman from the goblin world 
Carved me the ledges, fine and rare, 
And bars of sunlight I had set 
To hold my vision there. 

With wonder of old tapestry 
I hung the ceiling and the wall. 
A clock, as every hour went past. 
Rang a sweet madrigal 

That some young poet wrote, years gone, 
To some sweet lady, ages dead. 
I had mock stars on either hand 
And a gold sun overhead. 

One window faced the April-time ; 
Grey poplars in a golden sheen ; 
Blue rivers breaking joyously 
Like pictures on a screen. 

One window faced the beautiful 
Ripe Summer over all the land ; 

20 



Northland Lyrics 

The clouds that drifted in the blue 
Were white as my dream's hand. 

One window faced the Autumn hills 
Where maples set the world aflame. 
There the Red Hunter built his fire 
And cried his lady's name. 

One window faced a dreary place 
Where spruce-trees crowded the low sun ; 
Where Winter set his spotless seal 
On all that joy had done. 

And thus, not in a lordly house, 
I housed the dream I had of love — 
I kept it there between four walls 
With a mimic sky above. 

And thus live I in my small room — 
With tricks of rhyme and my sweet dream, 
Watching the suns of all the year 
Across the casement gleam. 

Sometime I think the walls will part 
And some one enter — then I '11 wake 
To know the room and dream were made 
For some real maiden's sake. 



21 



Northland Lyrics 

THE WATCHER 

My heart is like an empty house, 
The hostess being gone : 
The halls are laughterless at noon, 
The beds are cold at dawn. 

My heart is like an empty house 
That has not revel there, 
With ashes on the hearth at night. 
And winds upon the stair. 

The glasses on the buffet stand 
Unused for many a day. 
The brazen fire-dogs grin and grin 
A new, forsaken way. 

The spiders weave along the wall 
The sunbeams in a thread. 
The echoes of old times drift by 
Like shadows of the dead. 

My heart is like an empty house 
With all the windows down — 
Save one, high in the cupola. 
That looks beyond the town : 

And ever at the window there 
My soul looks out to see 
22 



Northland Lyrics 

If Phillada, my heart's desire, 
Is coming back to me. 

When she comes back the fires will light — 
The guests will all return — 
The wine will fill the cups, all night 
The scented candles burn. 

The halls will glow with light of love — 
The shadows slip away. 
At noon our laughter will out ring 
Across the golden day. 

LOVE'S INCLUSIONS 

When your lips to my hand you press 

Lowly, my dear one, 
A moment out of the daytime stress 

Swift-snatched, my dear one, 
I am a princess, and you my knight 
Seeking a guerdon, armed for fight, — 
(And the palace of Love looms near one !) 

When we linger, while hours go by. 

Where woods are lonely. 
With garnet leaves and a mist-blue sky 

Dream-deep and lonely, 
I am a dryad that you have found 
23 



Northland Lyrics 

And fast to the life of mortals bound — 
(Love's bonds are his young arms only !) 

When your head on my shoulder lies 

Weary, my true heart, 
I am your mother with watchful eyes, 

Dearie, my true heart ; 
With only a mother's passion then 
For the boy so weary of strife with men, — 
(For love has ever a new heart !) 

When in your sheltering arms I rest 

Safely, at gloaming, 
I am a child on its father's breast 

Hushed in the gloaming, 
With all the rapture the child-hearts know, 
Cradled and sung to, soft and low, — 
(Love's heart is the hearth for homing !) 

THE TOWER 

Thy love for me is like a tower 

Whereto from strife and storm I flee j 
High on the rock its steadfast walls 
Are set above the bitter sea. 

Within its shelter safe and dear 
I hear, and smiling dread no more, 
24 



Northland Lyrics 

The mockery of the ghostly wind, 

The time-waves breaking on the shore. 

A PRAYER IN A GARDEN 
Where this garden's walks are strewn 
With the scarlet hopes of June — 

Poppy-petals, rose-bloom tears — 
Sun-dreams of a thousand years; 

Let me lie till time is done, 
Soft wrapt in dusk oblivion. 

Let me lie, and dream, perchance, 
Dim dreams of olden-time romance. 

Let every golden lily blow 

With some old tale of long ago — 

Some lilt of swords, some song of love. 
Some ballad to a lady's glove. 

So let me sleep till time is done — 
Till all the varied sands are run, 

And Life forgets to turn the glass. 
And drops his jester-bells, alas ! 

So let me dream, till these are done. 
Soft wrapt in dusk oblivion. 
25 



Northland Lyrics 

TO LILITH 

Behind such various vesture of strange dreams 
Abides my soul, I know not its true form ; 
Nor have I faith it is the thing it seems — 
Now hushed in calm, now crying of the storm. 

Forevermore the dreams are as a veil 
Of strangely-wrought enchantment to my ken, 
Wherethrough my soul's eyes make my being quail, 
Or bid me wanton with my joys again. 

I have no knowledge of the thing it is. 
Whether it be of fiend or angel born, 
This much I know, beloved, only this : 
Beneath thy touch, of all its power shorn, 

It yields glad captive to the joy that lies 
Sweet on thy ruining lips and laughing eyes. 

AT THE LAST 

When all this trouble of life is past. 

This prating of honor and fame and sin, 

The cry of my passion will find you at last, 
O love, and our life will begin. 

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Northland Lyrics 

When God has broken His colored globes 

And crumbling ruin is wide and far, 
Our love will flame through the wreck of things 

And build us a lovelier star. 

The pigmy shadows which stand and leer 
And rob my soul of its strength to do; 

The little duties which earth makes clear 
To hold me far from you ; 

The abnegations, the fears, the dooms, 

That immure your heart from my soul's great love ; 
These things will shrivel before God's eyes 

And fade in the fire thereof. 

Then through the tumult of shattering dreams, 
The shriek and blur of the starry tides. 

My love will lead you by quiet streams 
Where our wild joy abides. 

Our lips will recapture the first dear kiss. 

And life's long fever which burned unquenched 

Your eyes will blot from my heart forever — 
A brand in the white dews drenched. 



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Northland Lyrics 

"WINTER WARMS HIS FREEZING 
HAND" 

Winter warms his freezing hand, 
Bends his head and leans low down, 
Where the sunset fires the land 
Just behind the hills and town. 

Winter melts his freezing heart 

What time the screaming geese take wing 

And the willow-blossoms start 

Up and down the creeks of Spring. 

Once I warmed this heart of mine 
By the light of her sweet eyes, 
Firing my horizon line — 
Firing all these Winter skies, 

And in dreams I scent the Spring. 
Dreaming still, she beckons me 
And with wild birds we take wing 
Down the creeks of mystery ; 

Down where willow-blossoms blow — 
Dreaming thus, I kiss her cheek. 
Waking, I can see the snow 
Lying cold above the creek. 

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Northland Lyrics 

A WHISPERED WORD 

To-night a word, a whisper, 

Through long, long miles there thrills, 
To you beside the river. 

From one among the hills. 

Above the town's sad turmoil 
Your listening heart shall hear 

The murmuring sound of alders. 
The whispered word of cheer ! 

SUNSET 

The hearth-fire of the universe 
To-night burns kind and deep ; 

We warm ourselves before it 
In converse ere we sleep. 

For Love, the mighty builder. 
Makes boundless space a home ; 

We nestle safe and fearless. 
With infinite skies for dome. 

THE VOICES 

" Lonely, lonely," over the hill 
Wails the wind at its restless will ; 
Close to your shoulder my head I lean, 
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Northland Lyrics 

No wind so sharp it can blow between : 
(" Only the bitter wind of death; " — 
Hear what the whisper saith.) 

Swift, surely, the ominous night 
Quenches the sunset's coloured light; 
In your eyes the star of love is lit,— 
No darkest hour can banish it : 
(" Only the cold, cold hour of death ;" — 
Hear what the whisper saith.) 

Nay, not the darkest night can part. 
Or bitterest wind, true heart from heart ; 
Hold me close that we hear no more 
The taunting voices without the door: 
(" Love shall be conqueror over death ! " 
Hear what the whisper saith.) 



EX UMBRIS 

Dear heart, the storm cries at the door, the snow is 

blown about the eaves. 
The wind from some wreck-drifted shore around my 

lattice window grieves. 
And ghosts of happier hours go by across the dark 

tempestuous sky. 



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Northland Lyrics 

The spruce-trees crowding up the slope toward the 

lonely dwelling lean, 
Forgetting all the songs of hope they crooned us when 

the fields were green ; 
The wailing voices of the blast mourn for the golden 

summers past. 

The firelight dancing on the wall and lighting many 

a pictured face, 
The wavering shadows quaint and tall, the carved 

chair by the chimney-place, 
Have each some wistful word to say of one beloved 

and far away. 

And yet how longing brings you near ! Just now, I 

almost thought I heard 
From out the bitter darkness, dear, your voice and 

that most tender word. 
The sweet new name you murmured low, that 

Autumn — was it years ago ? 

A shadow on the threshold stands — O love, can 

this be fancy too ? — 
With pleading lips, and outstretched hands, and those 

sad eyes by time proved true ! — 
Now gladly, faithful heart, I come to these dear arms 

that take me home ! 

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Northland Lyrics 

IN THE NIGHT-SEASON 

The joy of my art 

And the love of my heart 
And the lost, lost garden of young delight, 

I came to these 

Through the shadow-trees 
By the gate of dreams in the night. 

The daytime was cold. 

And the world had grown old. 
And bitter and lonely the light of the sun. 

And life was chill 

With the dread of ill 
And sorrow of works undone. 

Came night, with its tears 

For the severing years. 
And its gift reluctant of weary sleep ; 

And then — your hand 

In that clearer land. 
And your word for my heart to keep ! 

THE LAST FURROW 

Mellow the grapes are, 
Purple as gloamings that free. 
Yellow the corn in the husk. 
And scarlet the haws in the tree. 
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Northland Lyrics 

Wide winged the geese go, 

Swift, and crying, and crossing the stars, 

Foreseeing the snow. 

The hoar-frost lies white on the bars. 

This is the royal time — 

The partridges out of their covers — 

Each morning a rhyme, 

And the sun and the hill are as lovers. 

The cattle in stall — 

The pastures forsaken and lone — 

Firelight in the hall. 

And the thistle-seeds withered and blown, 

The last furrow turned, 

With the great moon watching all white. 

The oxen can rest now. 

For the ponds will be frozen to-night. 



"ON THE HILLS A GOD LIES 
DEAD" 

On the hills a god lies dead — 
Carl, the girdled one. 
With the white stars for his bed, 
For his shield — the sun. 
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Northland Lyrics 

Brother to the crawHng wind 
And the sweeping snow ; 
With his hair adrift behind, 
Forehead to the foe. 

On the hills a god lies dead 
With his sword in twain : 
Down the East his grey soul fled 
With the shifting rain. 

Centuries it has been so 

Yet I knew it not — 

Still the hills mourn, and the snow 

He is not forgot. 

Gnarled pines in the wind rejoice — 
" Carl, the girdled one. 
Gave to us his god-like voice ; 
To the sky, the sun." 

On the hills a god lies dead. 
Centuries have gone 
Since his soul rose up and fled 
From the crimson dawn. 



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Northland Lyrics 

TO W. C. R. 

The very thought of it moves me here — 
The thought of April coming again 
To our Mother St. John. Excuse this pen; 
And the blot there looks like a tear. 

How you will stand in the snow and note 
The first faint odour of willows in bud — 
The Indian-willow will flush with blood 
And the robin will clear his throat. 

The ice will swing at the brink, and flow 
Seaward — a hundred miles let it travel. 
The battered logs will hang on the gravel — 
The islands will strain to go. 

The geese will return to your hills — and the loon ; 
You will find themall,some day, when you wake, 
Trying the depths of a woodland lake 
Or feeding in some lagoon. 

A week will pass like a breath, and then 
Up and along the creeks I know 
The pussy-willows will scent and blow — 
The catkins will thrill again. 

Then you will slip from the bank and drift 
In your slim canoe, and her gunwale's gleam 
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Northland Lyrics 

Will come to me in a happy dream ; 
And your paddle will dip and lift 

And speed her along, and through it all 
The red-bud maples will burst and lean — 
The swollen waters will snarl between — 
Then I will awake, and call 

And find that the valour of April and sun 
On our Mother St. John and the Nashwaak there 
Is not for me — so I '11 snuff the air 
And dream how the thing is done. 

SOCOBIE'S PASSING 

Socobie, aged and bent with pain. 
At the time of the year when the red leaves fly 
Crawled from his tent door down to the river. 
" I will try my wrist and my skill again 
And sweep a paddle before I die." 

Time falls — the windfalls — the grey geese draw on 
There is silence and peace on our Mother St. fohn. 

Socobie, once a king of his tribe, 

Once a lover, a poet, a man. 

Launched his sun-scarred craft to the river. 

"I will try my strength where the rapids jibe — 

I will run her sheer, as a master can." 

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Northland Lyrics 

At the time of the year when the pass is blue 
And the spent leaf falls in the empty wood 
Socobie put out on the merry river; 
The brown blade lifted the white canoe — 
The rapids shouted, the forests stood. 

Down in the village the hearths were bright, 
And the nig.ht frost gleamed in the after-grass. 
And the farmers were homing up from the river. 
When out of the star-mist, slender and white 
A birch craft leapt and they watched it pass. 

Time falls — the frost falls — the great stars draw on. 
What voice cries ^^^ Far ewelV^ to our Mother St. fohn? 

ESTRANGED 

In my dreams I returned to my hills ; for the life that 

I left. 
The life of my waking, was drear as the pipe of the 

winds through a cleft 
Of the mountains of old held sacred, but long of their 

godhead bereft. 

When pitiful sleep drew near, and laid cool hands on 

my brow. 
And kind dreams led me away, where my hills, like 

a great ship's prow, 

37 



Northland Lyrics 

Stood forth to the northern wastes, my heart remem- 
bers how. 

With the dreams I returned to my hills — and they 

were not the same ! 
Yet the winds went by as of old, and the red spruce 

murmured her name. 
And down bleak alleys of pine the sunset quivered 

in flame. 

Then I opened my heart and cried to the hills to know 
A touch of their ancient kinship, their solace of long 

ago. 
But the voice of the wind grew strange, and a hush 

fell over the snow. 



AUTUMN DREAM 

I overheard the Wind to-day 

Telling the Stream 
The tragedy of Falling Leaf 

And Autumn Dream ; 

And when the Wind had finished it 

He laughed and fled, 
With never any thought of all 

He left unsaid. 

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Northland Lyrics 

And still the Stream went murmuring 

Of her own grief 
Without a thought for Autumn Dream 

And Falling Leaf. 



HAUNTED 

It is a weird that cries across black water, 
And in my heart there is no rest at all, 
But dim, unquiet dreams of ancient slaughter — 
Spring, Summer, Fall. 

Sometimes only the wind on the frosty reaches 

With the low cry my heart has learned to know ; — 
But in its voice that other voice beseeches 
Through wind and snow. 

Sometimes night, with the hush and the starry glamour, 

Allures my feet to uplands far and lone ; 
Over the dark horizon drifts a clamour 
Of words unknown. 

And then I dream it is my own soul calling 

Through the blind urge of life's eternal deep. 
Across the sobbing sound of spent dreams falling 
On death and sleep. 



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Northland Lyrics 

THE WIND IN THE GARDEN 

A wind is astir in my garden 
Who spills the rose to death. 
I will not, will not hearken 
The bitter thing he saith. 

A sinister, strange intruder, 
He chills my heart with fear ; 
Wrecked dreams and ruined visions 
At his approach draw near. 

By the dial's menacing finger 
The sweet hours wither and fall, 
And the shadows leer and whisper 
Along the garden wall ; 

For they know the viewless stranger, 
With colder eyes than dawn. 
The rustle of whose footstep 
Tells me that youth is gone. 

AN AUTUMN NIGHT 

The night is like a mystic dream ; 
Slim alders bend above the stream 
Wherein the last faint daylights gleam. 



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Northland Lyrics 

The sere autumnal meadows rise 
Smooth-sloping to the neutral skies ; 
Far ofF the lonely night-hawk cries. 

The world is sad and dark the night, 
And I who ever loved the might 
Of Nature, whether dull or bright, 

Am lonelier, sadder, than the chill 
Slow stream that wanders at its will 
Through these grave meadows bare and still. 



THE WIND-CRY 

O weary wind, be still, be still ; 

Such bitter woe is in thy cry ; 
All the lost dreams of all the world 

On thy dark wings go by. 

Thou voice of heart-ache, let me rest ! 

Lo, thou hast gathered up the tears, 
The sobs and manifold despairs, 

Of earth's unnumbered years. 

Art thou the voice of Nature's pain — 
Or bearest thou, with dawning day. 

The message of a lonely heart 
Too many leagues away ? 

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Northland Lyrics 

BEYOND THE YEARS 

The work to which his hands were set 
Went down with scorn and jeers ; 

His look grew deeper : " Even yet 
We '11 build — beyond the years." 

The vision that his faith had wrought, 
Touched by the blight that sears, 

Fell shattered. But he said : " My thought 
Will live — beyond the years.'* 

The dream that in his heart had rest 

Wrought bitterness and tears. 
His eyes grew tender : "Now, the quest; 

Then joy — beyond the years." 

He smiled to know his strength was gone. 

His eyes among the spheres 
Saw strength and beauty at the dawn — 

In dreams — beyond the years. 

Then the Great Silence covered him 

Too deep for dreams or tears. 
Now the wind scatters at its whim 

His dust along the years. 



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Northland Lyrics 

THE WANDERER 

Across the lawn the leaves are shed. 
The roses mouldered in their bed, 
And where their frosty shadows spread 
The gaunt trees watch and sigh. 

The moonlight, like a ghostly pall, 
Casts its weird glamour over all. 
Where the great house stands grim and tall 
Beneath the lonely sky. 

Down the long path his hurried tread 
Rings like a voice among the dead. 
While by his side a stealthy dread 
GUdes grinning like a gnome. 

Her window, with a vacant stare. 
Gazes across the garden square. 
Only some marigolds are there 

To greet the wanderer home. 

A SECRET SONG 

O Snow-bird, Snow-bird ! 
Welcome thy note when maple boughs are bare. 

Thy merry twitter, thy emphatic call. 
Like silver trumpets pierce the freezing air 
What time the crystal flakes begin to fall. 
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Northland Lyrics 

We know thy secret ! When the day grows dim, 
Far from the homes that thou hast cheered so 
long, 

Thy chirping changes to a twilight hymn. 

O Snow-bird, Snow-bird, wherefore hide thy song ? 

O Snow-bird, Snow-bird ! 
Is it a song of sorrow none may know. 

An aching memory ? Nay, too glad the note. 
Untouched by knowledge of our human woe. 

Clearly the crystal flutings fall and float. 
We hear thy tender ecstasy, and cry : 

" Lend us thy gladness that can brave the chill ; 
Under the splendours of the Winter sky, 

O Snow-bird, Snow-bird, carol to us still ! " 

THANKSGIVING 

When beechen leaves are brown 
And barberries bright as coral. 

Let us forget the frown 

Of fate, and the longed-for laurel. 

Come where the maples burn 

In crimson and golden glory 
That Earth may hold in her urn 

The ashes of Summer's story. 



44 



Northland Lyrics 

Faithless the birds depart 

With musical chirp and twitter, 

And Nature folds to her heart 
Alike the sweet and bitter. 

Then sing in Autumn's praise, 

Nor shrink from the colder comer; 

The joy of these shining days 
Is deep as the bliss of Summer ; 

Winter in graves of snow 

May bury, but hide them never. 

For safe in our hearts shall glow 

The light they have brought forever. 

The woods, the hills, rejoice. 
Each leaf a mute thanksgiving; 

We sing with grateful voice 
The pure delight of living. 

THE FADING YEAR 

Now fades the year, and in the sloping fields 
The clustering thin ferns are misty red. 
And in the wood red leaves are on the sod ; 

And down the paths among the dusky firs. 
And down the shore beside the shining stream, 
Come ghosts of other days and walk with us. 

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Northland Lyrics 

Shrill pipes the wind, and all our world grows cold ; 
The darkness closes round us ; on the hearth 
The fires of home are kindled like a star. 

Old voices call us, old ideals return ; 

The heart of childhood in us wakes and yearns ; 

Grant, Lord, it falter not again nor sleep ! 



HEIMWEH 

The wind is just a far-ofF voice 

Beyond the pale-blue bound of sky j 
Too weak to murmur or rejoice, 

I watch the moments drifting by. 
So large the world ; and ah, so chill 

The great pale sky, the shining snow ; 
The lonely wind is calling still. 

With a voice like human woe. 

Now all my high ambitions fade ; 

The things I hoped for seem so far; 
From work once loved I shrink, afraid 

Lest some mistake that work should mar; 
And all my longings turn to this : 

To hold my Mother's hand, to know 
The rest of Home, the smile, the kiss, — 

And let the great world go ! 

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Northland Lyrics 

SURPRISE 

Blind golden buds, we listened yesterday, 
Somewhere where winds were cool and dews were 

tender. 
To hear what older buttercups could say 
Of skies blue-domed above the field's wide splen- 
dour. 

To-day we bloomed, and thought from out the grass 
To front the sun with half-closed yellow eyes, 
But faced instead a white-draped toilet-glass, 
And opened every petal in surprise. 

GREETING 

O glad brown earth, we greet thee, 

Freed from the shrouding snow ! 
Soon shall the shadowy forests wake 
To starry bloom for thy dear sake, 

Soon where the rivulets flow 
The crumpled ferns their sheaths shall break. 

The slender rushes grow. 
O glad brown earth, to greet thee 

The skies of Spring lean low. 

O sad brown earth, we greet thee ! 
Hushed on thy mighty breast 

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Northland Lyrics 

Thy graves lie bleak beneath the sun ; 
In vain the silver rivers run 

On their unending quest : 
Strange grovi^s this life, since death has vv^on 

Lips that our lips have prest. 
O sad brown earth, we greet thee 

For those who lie at rest ! 



SPIRIT OF SPRING 

Spirit of Spring, draw near, draw near ! 
Let the glad voices of the brooks 
Sing anthems out of shadowy nooks. 
And adder-tongues appear. 

Bid all thy sleeping kinsfolk wake, 
The armies of the grass arise. 
White violets open fairy eyes, 
And crocus-flames outbreak. 

Bring hope to souls that long have lain 
In blank despair beside a tomb ; 
Let every resurrection-bloom 
Speak comfort unto pain. 

In hearts where sordid cares hold sway 
And world-love dulls the sacred gleam, 

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Northland Lyrics 

Re-wake the longing, and the dream 
Of childhood's golden day. 

Spirit of Spring, draw near, draw near, — 
With leaf, and blossom, and the light 
Unspeakable on plain and height, — 
High-priestess of the year ! . 

MARCH-WAKING 

Before the dawn, when birds crouch close together, 

A voiceless silvery stir the silence breaks ; 
So through the greyness of this mid-March weather, 

Something wakes. 

No green has sprung between the withered grasses. 

No blossom stars the roadside's mossy miles. 
Yet from the fields the frozen bareness passes. 

Something smiles. 

Not yet, not yet the time of song's full cheering; 

Expectant silence all my heart enthralls ; 
Out of the woods and through the lonely clearing 

Something calls. 

BEYOND THE HILLS 

The daffodils fling far the flag of Spring, 
Their golden troop the garden-fortress fills, 
49 



Northland Lyrics 

And bird-throat bugles greet the days that bring 
The daffodils. 

Over the hills the Summer comes at last; 

But sad the light and sad the laughing rills, 
And sad the golden flowers — since he has passed 
Beyond the hills. 



FROM THE EARTH 

From the earth our bodies came ; 

From the sad brown whirling earth, 
Knowing death, though not by name, 

From the hour of their birth. 
From the earth our bodies came. 

And they shall return to earth. 

To the earth they shall return. 

To a sod kept green with tears, — 

Lips that sing and hearts that yearn. 
Stilled at last from doubts and fears. 

To the earth they shall return. 

The brown earth kept sad with tears. 

From the earth they shall arise 
Purified and strong and free. 



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Northland Lyrics 

All of worth that here they prize 
Made their own eternally ; 

When from earth they shall arise 
Purified and strong and free. 



THE SHOOTING OF THE MOOSE 

All day through woodland stillnesses 

Of weighted fir and spruce 

We 've followed on our springing shoes 

The blood-trail of the moose, 

And now the moon swings clear, and black 

The shadows fall across our track. 

All day above the crunching snow 

Pierre and Dick and I, 

With lust of blood, have sped along 

To see the great moose die. 

And now the night has come, and dim 

The spectral drifts wreathe after him. 

We shot him at the cabin door ; 
The whisky-jacks cried shrill. 
And when the smoke moved up I saw 
The hemlocks waiting still — 
The ancient spruces bending low 
To his brave blood across the snow. 
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Northland Lyrics 

Yea, brave his blood as yours or mine 
And fit for better skill. 
The devil's luck, Pierre ! I know 
The sights were fixed to kill. 
To-night a bull-moose, plunging, dies 
Beneath the comfortless, wide skies. 

OLAF'S BOWMAN 

Here is a rocky cave ; 
Where else could be fitter grave 
For Wolfgof, Olaf 's bowman, 
Flower and soul of the brave. 

Asleep on the rocky floor 

He can hark to the ocean's roar, 

And dream that the Vikings muster 
Where the black tides tramp the shore. 

Here in his Viking bed. 

With his bow and spear at his head. 

He will hark to the voice of the wind 
And forget, for a while, he is dead. 

The waves will reel on the shore. 
And the seaweeds will cover his door, 

And he '11 lie with his head on his helmet 
And his brave soul dreaming of war. 
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Northland Lyrics 

When the brazen trumpet of doom 
Shatters the gladness and gloom, 

Wolfgof, bowman of Olaf, 
Will rise like a prince from his tomb. 

THE SHADOWY TIDE 

Through the wide white streets of the little town 

The bitter tide comes stealing down; 

The night is astir with the wings of woe, 

The shadows creep and cower low 

At the creak of the frosts in the frozen snow — 

And the aching tide drifts down. 

The women and children will wake and sleep, 
And the days will creep, and the days will creep, 
And the silent tide flood full and deep. 
And a shiver creep over hearth and kin. 
And the gibbering shadows dance and grin 
Till they fold us in, till they fold us in. 
And we feel the chill of that shadowy tide 
Which is cooling the world, and far and wide 
Is surging up to the stars outside. 

And in that day when the tide shall break 
And the fulness of pain shall all pain slake 
And the little city its rest shall take 
From the long toil of life, 
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Northland Lyrics 

The strong man out of his sleep will wake, 
From dreams of child and wife, 
To find his hair and his beard washed grey 
With the bitter spume of the frozen spray. 
And the dust at his lips that he may not pray. 

I feel it cold at my heart to-night ; 

It creaks the stair and dims the light, — 

A frozen breath before my sight. 



TO AN OLD SHIP'S FIGURE-HEAD 

You tasted the brine through the Viking years, 
And gazed wide-eyed on the lifting flood. 

With the measureless song of the sea in your ears 
Her pulse in your blood. 

And now from the corner of this old room 
You gaze wide-eyed at the curtain'd wall. 

Where the wood-lice tick all day in the gloom. 
And the shadows crawl. 

Behind that forehead, all brown and scarred. 
Do dreams of the wind-mad sea still move ? 

Dream on, for the harbor mouth still is barred 
'Twixt you and your love ! 



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Northland Lyrics 

INSCRUTABLE 

Her gold hair, fallen about her face, 
Made light within that shadowy place, 

But on her garments lay the dust 
Of many a vanished race. 

Her deep eyes, gazing straight ahead. 
Saw years and days and hours long dead, 

While strange gems glimmered at her feet, 
Yellow, and green, and red. 

And ever from the shadows came 
Voices to pierce her heart like flame. 

The great bats fanned her with their wings. 
The voices called her name. 

But yet her look turned not aside 
From the black deep where dreams abide. 
Where worlds and pageantries lay dead 
Beneath that viewless tide. 

Her elbow on her knee was set. 

Her strong hand propt her chin, and yet 

No man might name that look she wore. 
Nor any man forget. 



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Northland Lyrics 

HAROLD 

Up from the trodden sands lift his red plume ; 

Shoot his maimed stallion, and sheathe his red 
sword ; 
Bury him there where the clifFs make a gloom 

And the cedars hang desolate over the ford. 

Helmet and cuirass and scabbard of steel, 

Gauntlets and top-boots and clatter of spur, — 

Dumb now the clashing from thigh-bone to heel. 
And harmless as dragon-fly mocking them there. 

Such a great fight there will never be more; 

Harold alone there, with pistols and sword. 
Shooting them down where they rode to the shore. 

Cutting them down where they rode from the ford ; 

Twenty long minutes he held it, and then. 

Shouting, came down from the pass overhead ; 

He turned in his saddle to cheer on his men. 

And the grey rocks that saw it were spattered with 
red. 

Bury him there where the waters swing by. 

And the gloom of the mountain hangs over the ford ; 

With his feet to the rock and his face to the sky. 
And the grip of his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

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Northland Lyrics 

Bury him there where the winds in the pass 
Will cry him the dirges the sere cedars know. 

No tear will awake him of comrade or lass, 

Where we leave him to dream in the grass and the 
snow. 

Only the flare of his singing red plume 

Like the flag of a hero will challenge the ford, 

Till the last great " To horse ! " will blare over his 
tomb. 
And he '11 lead us again with his hand on his sword. 

GREY GARRY 

Grey Garry stood in the dusky stall — 

Grey Garry, dapple-grey Garry. 

He heard the birds, and the wind's footfall; 

He heard the sparrows flutter and call, 

Where the soft lights flush and tarry. 

He raised his head from the scented hay — 

He drew his lips from the yellow grain, 
For down the cool of the ending day 

He heard his laughter again. 

Nay, Grey Garry, 't was but a dream — 
The wind gone daft or the trees unstrung. 

Nay, dear horse, it was but a trick 

Of the Summer-wind, who is ever young. 



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Northland Lyrics 

The writer sat in his lamp-lit room — 

Weary and sad the writer. 

He heard the wind in the outer gloom — 

It held a tang of the woodland bloom, 

As it did when the world was brighter. 

He lifted his eyes from the scribbled proofs ; 

He dropped the pen from his weary hand, 
For somewhere he heard the clatter of hoofs — 

Galloping hoofs through a Summer land. 

Nay, good writer, 't was but a dream — 

The wind gone daft or thy nerves unstrung. 

Nay, dear boy, it was but a trick 

Of the Summer-wind, who is ever young. 

SMOKE-WREATHS 

These fading smoke-wreaths hold them all — 
The dawns and dreams gone by. 

The lights and shadows on the wall. 
The gleams of open sky. 

And all the vague, elusive things 
That haunt the halls of life 

With sense of vast o'ershadowing wings 
And rumourings of strife. 

How this small bowl of ruddy fire 
Can people all the room 

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Northland Lyrics 

With strangers from the realm Desire, 
Beyond the gulfs of Doom, 

Till all about me in the dusk 

The silence is astir 
With gleam of steel and breath of musk 

And frankincense and myrrh, 

While dream, adown the shifting breath 
Of myth and love and war. 

Lures from the hollow vault of death 
Wild hearts that beat no more ; 

And Roland's bugle, through the night 
Sends forth its far weird fall 

Where weltering and dense the fight 
Goes over Roncevalles. 

Joan of Arc, and Heloise, 

Swan Helen, fatal star. 
And Dante's deep-eyed Beatrice 

Go through the dusk afar ; 

King Arthur of the weary quest, 

Excalibur in hand. 
Flashes, where 'er is sorest prest 

His lion-hearted band ; 



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The joy of battle fierce and strong 
Drifts through the deathly bars 

While clash and swing of sword and song 
Clang up among the stars, 

And strange wild sagas of the North 
Pulse fire through all my veins 

As where across the sky go forth 

The Weird Light's shaken skeins ; 

Then slowly, as my pipe burns low 
Enchantments pale and fade, 

Till, in the ash of long ago 

The last dear ghost is laid. 



THE DEEPS 

In mind's subconscious waters black and vast 
On which thought's lifting laboured spans are cast 
What blind germs wait the mystic touch at last. 

There, teeming, blind, below the coasts of dream. 
The pregnant voiceless currents drift and stream, 
With doom and dread and rapture in their gleam. 

With here, — to bloom when I shall touch your hand, — 
Through bourneless darkness drifting for no strand, 
A scarlet magic seed from some far land. 

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And here, survivors from old worlds undone, 
Strange thought-germs latent till a fiercer sun 
Shall thrill them vi^ith eternity begun. 

Valours and visions, impulse, dream, and strife, 
Old ethnic currents through the core of life, — 
With these the gravid sunless deeps are rife. 

BEFORE THE GATE 

A snow-swirl from the bitter blast of life, 
A wavering flame before the winds of death, 
A soul beat upward toward the feet of God. 

With blind desire he battered against space. 
And with the heartache of a child come home 
He shook with anguish at the frozen door. 

Sealed with the freezings of oblivion 

The looming shadowy gates of God's abode 

In awful silence stirred not to his cry. 

And then a voice woke very far away 
Saying, " You may not win to that pure light 
Wherein the fulness of all joy abides 

" Till you have won its shadow upon earth. 
That white and strangest of all mysteries, 
The perfect wonder of a woman's love." 
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The grey and aching vision of the gate 
Wavered before him. With unuttered cry 
He shivered outvv^ard where the darkness leered. 



THE LOUP-GAROU 

The song I heard at the river's bend, 
Mellowed across the foaming " rip," 

That night in June when my pulses stirred 
To the dream my heart let slip, — 

This is all I remember now 

When the bees come back to the linden bough. 

The song I heard and the face I saw 
While through the dusk I loping sped 

Like some grey wraith the winds might draw 
Across the sunset's red ; — 

This is all I remember now 

When June has sweetened the linden bough. 

I heard her scream as I passed the door, — 
The low log doorway where she stood ; — 

It blended and passed with the rapid's roar 
As I plunged through the hollow wood ; 

And my heart grows wild with the memory now 

When the bees are back on the linden bough. 

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Fierce gods who made me half man, half brute, 
Why add this bitter last touch to my pain ? 

Am I less than the reddening willow-shoot 
You soothe in the white spring-rain ? 

Yet me you torture to madness now 

With the bloom and the bees on the linden bough. 

KATHALEENA 

Kathaleena ! Kathaleena ! 
Through the green, bird-haunted valley, 
Through the brook-bright, windy meadow. 
Through the dim mysterious forest, 
All the birds are calling thee ; 
All the brooks their voices rally. 

Shout thy name through sun and shadow. 
Cry, " Bring back the light thou borest 
From our fields, Astorc Machree " ! 
Kathaleena! Kathaleena! 

Kathaleena ! Kathaleena ! 
In the land where now thou strayest 
Have the sombre hills grown brighter, 
Have the birds a richer singing. 
Since thy lovely soul is there ? 
Surely, surely skies the greyest. 

Hearts the saddest, must grow lighter, 

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Where thy tender voice is, bringing 

Blessed dreams and visions fair. 

Kathaleena ! Kathaleena ! 

Kathaleena ! Kathaleena ! 
Ah return to those who call thee, 
Come once more to us who wander 
Through the ways thou leavest lonely, 
Vales that wait for love and thee : 
Let no stranger-lands enthrall thee. 
Dream no foreign hearts are fonder 
Than the heart that longs for only 

Thy low voice. Ah come, Machree ! 
Kathaleena ! Kathaleena ! 



ROSEMARIE 

Rosemarie plays in the firelight's blaze, 
Her shadow is dark on the wall. 

Her eyes are dim with a dream of him ; 
(Ah how the storm-winds call.) 

He will come to-night in the storm's despite,- 

(Dark is the woodland way), — 
She hears the beat of his horses' feet, 

In her heart there is holiday. 

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More rich, more clear, as the hour draws near, 

The clangorous keys rejoice ; 
In her jubilant heart such thoughts upstart, 

And music finds them a voice. 

Of those eyes she dreams where the love-light gleams 

Warm as the heart of June, 
On her lips the while the slow sweet smile 

Grows glad with the golden tune. 

What the white storm hides in its drifting tides 

Will the eyes of dawn betray ? 
The cold wind calls from the mountain walls, 

Dark is the woodland way. 

Ah sweet, dream on till the night is gone 

And the tender hope is dead; 
In those dearest eyes the death-chill lies. 

There is snow on that shining head. 

HIS WHIM 

Because his dream was fair. 

His life not so, 
He turned from his despair. 

To go. 

Because his light was dim, 
The night so wide, 

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He yielded to his whim 
And died. 

But when his heart had rest 

Beneath the sod 
There came to him this test 

From God : 

The one he loved in vain 
To where he slept 

Came through the Autumn rain, 
And wept. 

Then all his fancied peace 
Returned to strife ; 

He groaned for his release 
To life. 

AFTER 

Though Death has claimed my dust 

For the earth's need, 
Lent me a while on trust 

By flower and seed ; 

Though Failure clutched me in 

His iron hand 
With that old look and grin 

I understand ; 
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They neither can annul 

Nor make accurst 
The light that through my skull 

Sifts still, as first 

It did, when in my eyes 

(Which now are none) 

It woke some dear surmise 
Of joy begun. 

And those black frosts that stir 

In the deep wood 
Told me without demur 

That life was good. 



TO THE LORD OF THE YEARS 

This rolling sea of stars 
Is dust before Thy breath 

Whose pleasure makes or mars 
The halls of life and death. 

Thy least desire is heard 
Beyond the vasts of space, 

And being's core is stirred 
At turning of Thy face. 

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The cycles of earth's years 
Are phases in Thy dream 

Unblurred by drift of tears, 

Untouched of shade and gleam. 

Yet of Thy will we are, 
And children of Thy word 

With every sun and star, 
"With every flower and bird. 

Then grant we may not fail 
From out Thy vision vast 

When life's strong warders quail 
Before death's icy blast : 

But may we still aspire 

To things unknown, unguessed, 
More near the heart's desire 

Than this poor body's quest. 

TOASTS 

Gentlemen ! comrades and friends, 
We '11 forget our short purses, long woes- 
We '11 all fill with port to the brim. 
For I have some toasts to propose. 

The ladies — old sweethearts and new — 
The girls whom we once loved, and now : 
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Marie of the glowing gold hair 
And Lalage of the white brow ; 

Celeste, who was married last week, 
Blithe Nell, whom I M marry to-day 
If she would write " Yes " to my prayer 
And the papers would give me more pay ; 

The shopping-mad girls of New York — 
The ladies of old Acadie — 
The girls who are dearest to you 
And the girl who is dearest to me. 

Next ! The ladies whose love is true love — 
Not a bubble, to break at a whim — 
Our Mothers ! God bless them ! and here *s 
Their health, to the stem from the brim. 

Next ! The pens that we shake at the world 
And butter our bread with — buy wine — 
Your pen, and your pen, and your pen. 
And your pen, and Will's pen, and mine. 

They have stuck to us through '97, 
And brought no more joy than gold-plate : 
If we work for the things that we dream of 
They will stick to us through '98. 

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And last ! with a clinking of glasses 
Here 's each to the hearts of the others, 
And we swear, by the pen and the ink-pot. 
To scribble, stay poor, and be brothers. 



BEFORE THE DUEL 
[^London. lySO.^ 

To-night I am alone in my own chair 

Before the fire that good Janette has lit — 

To-morrow, ere the sun is in the east, 
I, who love life, will be ail done with it. 

And so the thoughts that I have long held down, 
Of homely Devon and the mother-face. 

Come surging back across my stricken soul, 
And ail these years of ink and town erase. 

I know how tears will fill the mother-eyes. 
How agony will chill her heart's soft beat. 

When John takes up the news in Monday's mail 
Of death, behind Paul Rober's, in Grub Street. 

O God, is this reward for all her love ? 

That I should cause her grief, because a girl 
Who has no heart, nor soul, nor any good. 

Has set me at Lord Clare with her lip's curl ? 

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I, who love life, and have my work to do, 
And joy to take, and little gift of rhyme, 

Will leave it all for honour, at one thrust. 
Before St. Paul's can see the dear sun climb. 

O honour, let me curse the shape you take — 
And love ! I see a lady smile next weekj 

What matters it to her if he is dead 

Who but this morning kissed her glowing cheek ? 

So here am I in my familiar chair. 

And, else Clare slip, I sit for my last time. 

Good-night, thou dear, far Devon — mother-face — 
Good-night, poor laughter, finery, and rhyme. 

THE NOVICE 

O soul above my soul. 

Who art myself and more — 

The dream God gives to guide 
From door to door, — 

By thy averted brow 

And wistful, grieved disdain 

Teach thou this crying heart 
To conquer pain. 

When hungry passions wake 
Wild tears within my breast 
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The lifting of thine eyes 
Stills them to rest. 

My eager hands would grasp 
Desires fond and vain ; 

On the far hills a voice 
Wakes to restrain. 

O thou unnamed, austere, 
Make strong thy tyranny. 

That I may never more 
Long to be free ; 

Else let my spirit go. 

Unconscious of a choice. 

Blown on by shifting winds. 
Deaf to thy voice. 

Until my life goes by 

In joys more sharp than pain, 
A core of wild sweet fire 

And April rain. 



AT THE HEART'S CRY 

Till the black-crimson petals of that night 
Drew down to the gold vortex of strange dreams 
My soul and body, wearied of the fight 
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Of far ideals and clashing fierce desires, 

I was as one struck blind by life's sweet light 

And deafened by a myriad singing fires. 

So was I glad when night's deep velvet rose 
Closed over me and hid me from myself; 
As on my northern hills the first soft snows 
From grey skies brooding like an angel's wing, 
Compassionate, where the last lorn maple glows. 
Blot out all sad remembrances of Spring. 

-^ons it seemed the changing dreams went by 
Sphinx-like, or smiling-eyed, or dim with tears, 
While ages died along sleep's shaken sky 
Where flashing lights of far-ofF battles streamed 
And wind-swept clamors beat their way on high 
Then fell on silence — and I knew I dreamed. 

And then, across black solemn pools of fate. 
Was it some cry of your wild heart to mine 
That fading left the whole world desolate 
And me sob-shaken with a vain desire. 
As one who beats against a granite gate 
On marshlands lonely in the sunset's fire ? 



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ALIEN 

Whom the great goddess once has kissed 

Between the brows 
His heart shall find no dwelling-place 

Wherein to house. 

The ragged mists shall be his roof 

Where mountains loom, 
And swirling winds about his face 

With words of doom ; 

The valleys when he walks therein 

Are kind and warm, 
Yet ever drift across his soul 

Strange gusts of storm. 

If weary, he shall stop beside 

An opened door. 
Dreaming, "This hearthstone is my goal, 

To wend no more." 

A tumult as of snows adrift 

Shall fill his ears. 
His heart-strings feel the old-time lure 

Adown the years, 



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And he shall turn from that warm light 

With still regret 
That dreams were made not to endure, — 

Nor to forget. 



AT TWILIGHT 

Out of the dusk, wind-blown and thin, 
The shadowy woodboats gather in, 
And twilight hushes the harbor's din, — 
Sleep, little head, on my shoulder. 

The gold lights wake through the evening grey 
In the little village beside the bay. 
And a few cold stars gleam far away, — 
Sleep, little head, on my shoulder. 

The sailor turns his face once more 
Where his sweetheart waits at the opened door. 
The lone light washes the wave-swept shore, — 
Sleep, little head, on my shoulder. 

Here where the dancing shadows swarm 
Our driftwood fire is bright and warm ; 
Beyond our window wakes the storm. 

Then sleep, little head, on my shoulder. 



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SLUMBER-SONG 

Hushed, hushed the night comes, 

Day's cares are ended, 
Put by your heavy thoughts. 

Rest, dusk-befriended; 
Softly my voice shall weave 

White webs of sleep. 
Soothing you, folding you, 

Peaceful and deep ; 
Doubt shall fade, pain shall flee 

Discord, and fear, — 
Just your love murmuring 

Low at your ear ; 
Respite and comforting 

Soul-deep, profound. 
Come while I build your sweet 

Palace of sound ; 
Gold through your drowsy brain 

Star-visions gleam. 
While my song makes for you 

Dim walls of dream ; 
Hushed, hushed the night comes, 

Heart-pangs are ended. 
Peace shall encompass you. 

Slumber-befriended ; 



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Fear not, for love is near 

Ne'er to depart, 
O thou long-tried and true, 

Heart of my heart ! 



BERCEUSE 

All pain, all sorrow, seem to fall 

Behind us infinitely far. 
What time the sleepy robins call 

At Twilight's dusky bar. 

Lay down your head upon my breast, 

O rosy nephew golden-curled ; 
Boys, birds, and flowers hush to rest. 

So weary grows the world. 

As slowly as the branches wave. 

Singing, I rock you to and fro ; 
So tune be glad, if words are grave 

The baby will not know. 

Far off and faint the chirpings sound. 

Pale lights gleam out through dark'ning blue, 

Soft arms of silence fold us round. 
As mine are folding you. 



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Small voice that twitters like the birds, 
Grey eyes that hold the light of stars, 

Too sleepy we for tune or words ; 
Let down the dreamland bars ! 



THE GARDEN 

A fairy lamb as white as snow 

Through all your dreams shall come and go. 

And you shall follow where he leads. 

Through dusk-deep woods and blossomy meads. 

To where a little garden stands 

Laid out for you by fairy hands. 

Set round with red-coned tamarack, — 

Four walls to keep the great world back, — 

With lovely avenues, whose shade 

From eglantine and spruce is made. 

With oread ferns in shady spots. 

And shoals of blue forget-me-nots, 

With rows of crimson hollyhocks^ 

And columbine, and spicy stocks, 

And other, fairer blossoms known 

To folk of childlike heart alone, — - 

The yellow lily whose romance 

Grew not on any field of France, 

One white, ethereal immortelle 

From those lost woods we loved so well, 

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And that Blue Rose whose petals gleam 
So richly by the paths of dream ! 

O Baby, let your wee hands keep 

Some flowers when you come back from sleep. 

THE MEN OF MY HEART'S DESIRE 

Where are the men of my heart's desire ? 

Of the British blood and the loyal names ? 
Some are North, at the home hearth-fire. 

Where the hemlock glooms and the maple flames, 
And some are tramping the old world round 
For the pot of gold they have never found. 

Oh, leal are the men of my heart's desire — 
Their fathers were leal in the days gone by — 

And their blood is blithe with the subtle fire 
The purple breeds, and their hearts are high, — 

Poor, and gallant, and dear to me. 

With a strong hand each, and a pedigree. 

Good men are bred in the East and the West, 
And ripe, true gentles in Boston town. 

But the men of my blood to my blood seem best — 
Who still hold the honour of Mitre and Crown. 

Though empty their cellars and worn their attire. 

These are the men of my heart's desire. 

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So, Gentles, these stumbling rhymes I send 

To our spruce-clad hills, for a word of cheer, — 

Where there 's ever a welcome and ever a friend. 
And the brown coat covers the cavalier. 

Take them, I pray you, for what they are worth. 

For I swear by my soul you 're the salt of the earth. 



A LAMENT 

TO THE MEMORY OF ARCHIBALD LAMPMAN 

His was not the glory of the shattering of spears ; 
He did not cross his sword with Death, where 
scarlet flags are hurled. 
But Death came to him softly, with his dark eyes 
dim with tears. 
And broke a dream of woodland-ways across a 
singing world. 

So dofFyour hats, good poet-men, 
No fingers lift the fallen pen ! 
The sun forgets to mark the time 
Without the music of his rhyme. 

His was not the glory of the thundering of wars ; 
His was not a nation's voice ! — are his a nation's 
tears ? 

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Northland Lyrics 

To him the night-winds whispered all the secrets of 
the stars, 
He was priest of all the joyous springs and of the 
dying years. 

So dofF your hats, good gentlemen. 
For hearts were made to bleed again. 
With Archie gone, and all his rhyme. 
Who '11 tell the world 't is April-time ? 

DARGAI RIDGE 

Thank God I have in my laggard blood 

The vim of the Englishman, 

Which is second to none, from North to South, 

Save the fire of the Scottish clan — 

Save the blood of the lads who died 

On the rocky mountain-side. 

And went to the hell of the heated guns 

As a lover goes to his bride. 

The Ghoorkas laughed at the whining balls — 
And they were of alien race. 
The English drave at the smoking rocks 
And their subalterns set the pace. 
Oh the blood of the lads who fell 
Where the valley lay a hell ; 
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Northland Lyrics 

Thank God that the men in the East and West 
Cheer at the tale they tell. 

The Ghoorkas lay in the slaughter place, 
Save a few that had battled through- — 
Their brown, brave faces raised to the steep 
Where the flags of the marksmen flew — 
Their great souls cheering still 
(Souls that no ball could kill) 
Into the ears of the few^ who crouched 
Under the crooked hill. 

The English went as maids to a dance 
Or hounds to the huntsman's call. 
And the English lay in the valley-lap 
And smeared their blood on the wall. 
Oh the blood that knows no shame. 
And the valour clear of blame — 
Thank God that the world is girt about 
With the gold of an English name. 

Then the men of the Gordon Highlanders 
With their bagpipes shrilling free — 
The lads of the heather pasture-sides. 
The lads of the unclad knee. 
Charged — where their friends lay dead — 
Over the green and the red 
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To the cry of the regimental pipes 
And the flop of the hitting lead. 

They passed the level of sprawling shapes 

And the valley of reeking death ; 

They struck the rocks of the mountain pass 

Where the smoke blew up like breath. 

Little they thought of fame 

Or the lifting of a name ; 

They only thought of the mountain crest 

And the circle of spitting flame. 

Thank God I find in my laggard blood. 

Deep down, the fire of the man. 

And the heart that shakes with a mad delight 

At the name of a Highland clan — 

At the name of the lads who died 

On the rocky mountain-side 

And went to the hell of the heated guns 

As a lover goes to his bride. 

THE BUGLE-CALL. 

The night loomed black with coming storm, 
The narrow pass was iron-walled, 

And through the dark profound and grim 
A solitary bugle called. 

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Northland Lyrics 

Its voice from cloudy heights unseen 

With sudden summoning sweetness spoke, 

And in the heavy heart of time 
Eternity's desire awoke. 

Blow loud and clear from height to height, 

O bugle, bid the dark be gone j 
Call out across the stormy hills 

The gold and azure wings of dawn ! 



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AT THE END OF A BOOK 

When that old Vendor, to whose hand 
The loveliest volumes come at last, 
Shall thumb you for a trace of good 
Enduring though your day be past, 

Be not abashed at your small worth ; 
His sense is keen ; and there may cling 
About your yellowing pages still 
Some freshness of the Northern Spring; 

Some echo of the whitethroat's song 
From lonely valleys blue with rain, 
Ringing across the April dusk 
Joy and unfathomable pain ; 

Some glamor of the darling land 

Of purple hill and scarlet tree, 

Of tidal rivers and tall ships 

And green diked orchards by the sea ; 

A sweep of elm-treed interval 
And gravelly floors where herons wade ; 
A sigh of wind through old gray barns 
With eeriest music ever made. 

And will no hint of this outweigh 
The faulty aim, the faultier skill, 

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To save our credit when we come 
To the Green Dwelling in the Hill ? 

Ah, trust the Vendor wise and kind ! 
He knows the outside and the in, 
And loves the very least of those 
He tosses in the dusty bin. 

Bliss Carman. 



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